


Kili's first hangover

by GendrysNorthernWench



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Poor Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GendrysNorthernWench/pseuds/GendrysNorthernWench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili learns that it is never a good idea to have a drinking contest with Dwalin and Glóin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a really quick little one-shot whilst I wait for my plot bunny to return. I don't own the hobbit, or any of the associated characters/locations/names etc etc etc. Kili has just turned 18 and Fili is 23

Kili woke up the day after his eighteenth name day, with a mouth of cotton and a head that he felt certain would split open at any moment. The dwarf groaned, never again was he going to be talked into a drinking contest with Dwalin and Glóin. Never. Not for as long as he lived, and if he saw never another pint ever again, it’d be too soon. 

Just as the suffering dwarf was about to smother himself with his pillow, a bright, booming laugh accompanied by the slam of a door colliding with rock made Kili whimper as he tried to stop his head from exploding. When the sadistic fiend yanked open the curtains, Kili was certain he was going to die. 

“Up and at ‘em baby brother! Ma’s made you bacon and eggs for breakfast.” Fili trilled, and as if to prove his point, he shoved a large plate of breakfast under the brother’s nose. Kili retched. Later, Fili would swear he had never before seen a dwarf go so green. 

After much coercing and a little bodily harm, Kili was dragging himself to the washroom to prepare for the day, and Aulë help him he felt like death. This was worse than the time he’d got the flu from Fili. 

By the time, he’d stumbled downstairs, his brother, mother and uncle were all sat around the table eating, and the dark haired dwarf gagged at the smell as he sat next to his brother.

“Kili, Gimli’s sick and Heruuni is visiting her sister, so Glóin won’t be in the forge today. I need you to cover for him.” Thorin’s voice was level and betrayed none of the amusement he felt, especially when his youngest sister-son blanched. 

“C…Can’t Fili do it?” Kili whimpered, his face falling into the well-known ‘puppy pout’-a trick he had perfected at an early age-

“Sorry brother, but I’ve promised to help Balin today.” The look of abject horror on her youngest boys face sent Dis into peals of laughter, which earned her a half-hearted glare.

“Oh darling, they’re just winding you up.” Dis reassured, her eyes twinkling evilly. And if Kili had’ve been in any fit state, he would have run screaming. His mother had the look she got when he was a dwarfling and refused to take his bath. 

“Thank Aulë” 

“Instead, you’ll be coming to the market with me.” The grin that lit his mother’s face was positively deadly, and with a long suffering groan Kili’s head hit the table in front of him.  
The roar of laughter from the other three dwarves could be heard up and down the lane. 

Kili was definitely never going to drink again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili goes to the market!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to extend this into a two-shot after a request from a reader on FF.net I'd love to know what you think.  
> And as usual, I claim no rights to The Hobbit or any associated characters/names/places etc etc etc.

Kili was sure that damnation came in the form of crowded market places. 

There were dwarflings screaming and chasing one another, stall holders shouting about their wares and oh by all the Valar, the smells, it was torture. Between the animals, the sweat of dwarves compacted tightly together and the various food stuffs sold, Kili was suffering. 

His mother however, seemed to be taking an almost sadistic delight as she watched her sons brow crease and his occasional whimpers when they passed a particular loud or pungent stall. This would teach him a lesson on why it is not a good idea to drink most of a barrel of ale in a few hours, and if she got a pack mule for the day, well, that was just an added bonus. 

Kili was dragged from the spice stalls –which made him sneeze- to a new little fabric stall his mother wished to check out –the old lady was clearly senile and kept pinching his cheek - to the forge to see Dwalin who slapped him on the back and laughed at the obvious pain he was experiencing –between the smoke, the pounding of steel and his mother and Dwalin talking far louder than was necessary- Kili was convinced he was going to pass out. Seeing her son whiten even further, Dis decided it would be an idea to perhaps take a little pity on her son and take him away from the forge. 

Though luck was not on the side of Kili that day as he bumped into a young dwarfling child and knocked him on his behind –only to be squalled loudly at by the mother- as his own had mysteriously disappeared, only to return once the mad dwarf had flounced off, and if his day could not get any worse, one of his father’s sister’s cousin’s nieces –or something like that- had caught sight oh and clung to him like a barnacle, rabbiting on about some new dress or something equally frivolous, and whilst normally he could have handled the girl, the nausea he was feeling, couple with the headache worsened by her whiny voice was genuinely pushing the young dwarf to throw himself off the nearest highest peak. 

Thankfully his mother took pity on him, and with a rather unveiled insult about the state of the girls’ beard, they were off, and Kili had never loved his mother more.

“We’ve just got on more stop and then you can go home and sleep” Dis told her son, struggling to smother her grin, oh she could not wait to see her sons face! 

“Thank you, have we any willow paste at home?” Kili muttered, so enraptured by the thought of his bed and a bit of bloody peace, he’d not noticed his mother carefully steer him down the lane to the pub he’d frequented the night before, and it wasn’t until they were at the doors and Dis has pushed open the oak wood panel open that it struck Kili; ale and sweat and smoke. 

Kili retched. 

Damn his mother. Damn her.


End file.
